The Moon
by Schmoopie
Summary: Briefly, this is a story about two completely new characters. There are werewolves involved, but I'm not telling who turns and who doesn't. You're gonna have to read. ]


**.01: Sneaking Out**

Quietly, as if he were a cat, Alex slid beneath the high front gate, his chest scraping lightly on the damp grass. Breathing hard with nervousness, he watched the windows, narrowing his eyes in order to focus better, look for moving shadows. None seemed to be looking out at the yard at the moment… Perfect.

Suddenly, he crawled all the way under, and sprang up, almost leaping into a nearby shrub but for his careful quality of looking beforehand. Peeking out through a patch of thinner leaves, his pale greenish grey eyes sought out anyone who may have noticed him. A small crease of worry showed on the corner of his jaw as he watched the dog on the porch. It didn't seem a trifle worried, however. Awaking only momentarily from the noise in the bushes, it casually sniffed the air (at this point Alex was thankful he'd not been downwind of the animal), then lowered its head back down upon its large paws, huffing a dog-sigh of tiredness.

Alex held his breath for a long time, his eyes wide, until he was positive the dog was asleep, and then slowly emptied his lungs out on the cold night air. It had been nowhere near close, but dogs' senses were much keener then humans'. He feared being caught by a dog, since they were the ones unafraid to hurt you. Humans would be disappointed, and possibly call the police, but the dog would have inflicted upon him an injury as to give him something to think about beforehand. Plus, he had no intention of being caught out here anyway.

Removing his shoes and sliding them beneath a low branch of the bush so they wouldn't be seen, Alex walked out, knees bent and head lowered, black hoodie pulled over every inch of his body he could manage. He was able to get across the yard without accident, staying close to the wall and ducking under the windows, oftentimes hunkering down to crawl on hands and knees towards his destination. A chilly sweat had begun on his brow, and his body was all a-tremble with nervousness. Slowly, he reached up, his large, boyish, freckled hand tapping lightly on the windowpane.

There was a pause, and a silhouette looked outwards, tilting its' head. Alex waved at it, still down on his knees, and it stood there a moment, then unlatched the window, sliding it open.

A short, lightly tan-skinned girl with auburn curly hair leaned out and regarded him with big brown eyes, tilting her head, a small smile on her face. "You came…"

"Yes," Alex replied, staring at her.

They retained eye contact for a few more moments, until the girl stepped back from the window and motioned for him to come in. Alex made it through the window in time to see the girl walking back into her room and locking the door behind her. She strode over to the window and closed it, latching it back up, and closing the curtains. The clock on her dresser told him it was eleven-thirty five. He'd left at eleven-fifteen.

"So, Alex…," she began, smiling, "You're five minutes late."

He grinned back at her, shrugging. "I almost got killed by your dog… She was sitting on the porch and I stood in the bushes waiting for her to go back to sleep. I thought I was a goner."

"Pff!", she laughed. "Whiskey? That's ridiculous. She wouldn't hurt you if she tried, and you know it, silly boy."

Alex shrugged again and laughed a little. They were talking in whispers; it wasn't particularly wise to yell and scream and shout while you were a boy at a girls' house, especially if her parents didn't know you were there.

Alex removed his hoodie, which by now was a little damp, and the girl put it in the corner where it wouldn't be noticed if her parents walked in. He then took off his socks and set them in the same spot so they could dry. Shivering, he folded his arms over his chest, and the girl turned to look at him, and they both sat down next to each other.

"Sooo," the girl began, "How was your day?"

This was a filler question, and he knew it. Fillers were the statements that meant the other person didn't know or wasn't sure what to say. Alex turned to smirk a little at her.

"Sara," he said, "You're silly."

She smiled a little and wrapped her arms around him in a very warm—and very soft—hug.

"I know. I just can't figure out what to say to you sometimes. Your eyes steal all my words away and I don't know what to do."

He raised his hand a little to touch the soft flesh of her arm, brushing his lips a little on her cheek. Sara looked at him and smiled quietly, nuzzling her head into his neck, then resting it on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you came over," she murmured, toying comfortably with strands of his long, light red hair.

"I am, too," he replied, kissing her forehead.

"So what do you want to do tonight?"

"Let's watch television."

"Okay," she smiled.

"Okay," he concurred.


End file.
